I Was Here(77)

             He nods. “So what’s the plan?”

             “Drive to Boise today. We can stay with Stoner Richard—I mean, Richard Zeller. You remember Meg’s roommate?”

             “I remember.”

             “He said we could crash at his place. It’s his parents’. Unless you want to stay somewhere else.” He probably has plenty of places to stop, plenty of rock-and-roll crash pads.

             “I’ll go where you go.”

             A simple statement that feels like a blanket.

             “You going to tell me what it is we’re doing?” he asks.

             When I called Ben, I told him I’d found a person linked to Meg’s death and needed someone to come with me while I talked to him. I hadn’t told him anything else. I figured he didn’t need, nor would he want, to know what had happened in these past few weeks when we’d been absent from each other’s lives. But now that he’s asking, I’m scared to tell. Harry sent me a few cautioning emails, with links to articles about girls meeting guys they’d met online and gruesome things happening. I appreciated his concern but wasn’t sure it was applicable. Those were girls with romantic hopes, guys with depraved intentions. That isn’t me and Bradford.

             But what if Ben doesn’t see it that way? What if I tell him and he chickens out? What if he refuses to take me?

             When I don’t answer right away, Ben asks, “Am I on a need-to-know basis, or something?”

             “No. I just . . .” I shake my head. “It’s a long drive.”

             “What does that mean?”

             “There’s time. I’ll tell you. Later. I promise.” I pause. “How are the kids?” I ask.

             “I brought pictures,” he says. And I expect him to show me on his phone, but he pulls out one of those envelopes you get from a photo developer, and slides it across the maps to me. I open it up, and inside are a few snapshots: Pete and Repeat chasing a piece of string, washing each other’s faces, curled up sleeping together at the foot of Ben’s bed.

             “They’re so much bigger!”

             Ben nods. “Teenagers. Pete brought home a dead mouse. I’m sure it’s a gateway thing. It’s only a matter of time before they’re bringing home all sorts of animals.”

             “Birds. Rats.”

             “Then it’s possums, then small ponies. I wouldn’t put it past those two.”

             I laugh. It feels like the first time in ages. I hand the photos back.

             Ben shakes his head. “They’re for you.”

             “Oh. Thanks. Do you want something to eat? Before we go?”

             Ben shakes his head. “I came to kill time while I was waiting for you.”

             “And here I am.”

             “Here you are.”

             The awkward silence that follows doesn’t bode well for the next two days.

             “Should we get going?” I ask.

             “Okay. I should warn you, the cigarette lighter outlet for the iPod is acting up, so the music situation is precarious.”

             “I’ll deal.”

             “Also, less important to me but maybe not you: the AC’s kind of on the blink, which is going to make Nevada desert driving in July rather interesting.”